


A Shark-Tooth Blade

by leradny



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, May be continued, also probably i'll do a modern au with moana, bc moana and aquaman would get along great, if i do keep going know that nothing bad will happen in this ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leradny/pseuds/leradny
Summary: A cat may look at a king; A man may sail on a king tide. Arthur Curry, also known as Orin, when he first brought fish to a starving village.





	A Shark-Tooth Blade

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for a while. I started it months and months ago. A giant, ripped as fuck Pacific Islander who brings fish to starving people and snarks at Batman is a good dude.
> 
> After I watched Moana I brought in a little more Pacific Islander culture, but still couldn't figure out what this was trying to say. Very atmospheric character study. Or rather, speculation. I could be completely wrong with all this except for the fact that he brings fish.
> 
> Currently I'm going through a lot of housing situation chaos. As in, I have to move in the next two weeks. So I took it out and polished it to let off steam. It's as done as it's ever going to get. While I have vague ideas of continuation, I make no promises. Aquaman isn't even out yet (tho I'll watch the shit out of it!!!) and, again, real life is kicking my ass.
> 
> So here, just. Just have Aquaman being a good dude ok?
> 
> Also, I know he's called Arthur Curry in the reboot, but in other versions he was born Orin and renamed Arthur when he was adopted by landlubbers. So, he has both names in this version.

When his ship sails onto shore, the doors are kept shut.

The King tide is the strongest and most far-reaching current on their island, but also the most dangerous as it sweeps in and out. No one has come or gone with it in years, not since the master navigators died out.

The fish have been gone for so long that all of the adults are distrustful and wary of a hulking shadow in the fog. The slither of a full net behind the stranger catches their interest, but they keep behind their windows. He has a long-sleeved woolen coat on and seaworthy trousers, but his hair is wild. His wooden boat with two hulls is just as big and rough and strong, with a smack of green sails like seaweed and a name carved into the stern that they cannot read.

He has a peculiar knife at his belt, with a shark-tooth blade and mother-of-pearl handle, sheathed in wood polished to a shine. One of the grandmothers asks if he is from a tribe that keeps the old ways, and he nods and removes his coat to reveal tattoos all across his arms. They resemble the markings on some of the old men, but there is enough of a difference to render them foreign.

“I hope you’re all hungry,” he says, casual with his English. And he says something in the language of the elders, gesturing to the net.

Only the children are not afraid. When their mothers and grandmothers load baskets with fish and seaweed, their girls and boys run out and yell and climb onto the stranger as if he was a tree. Laughing, he yells, "Hey, cousins!" and holds out his arms to let them dangle off. And finally the shroud of fear is lifted from this huge man in the prime of life, a master navigator and fisherman, with a net full of fish in a hard winter, and a broad white smile.

"My name's Orin!” he says.

Everyone gives them their names as they collect their food and their children. With that and a firm shake of the hand, Orin goes from a stranger to friend all at once. No one recognizes the name, surely in his own dialect. But even if they could, today has brought a different meaning to it:

 _Hero_.


End file.
